If your entire thought bubble on “Grown Ups 2″ consists of one giant shoulder shrug, well, you’re in good company here, friend. The first installment was just released in 2010, and most of us got so chocolate wasted that we’re still coping with the hangover.

Be that as it may, Adam Sandler and his parental posse — Kevin James, David Spade, Chris Rock, Salma Hayek and Maya Rudolph — have regrouped for another round of campy family fun. From everything we’ve seen so far, the outdoorsy high jinks formula carries forth in the follow-up, sprinkled with a few fratty cameos by the likes of popular kids Taylor Lautner, Alexander Ludwig, Patrick Schwarzenegger and Milo Ventimiglia, and somehow we’re expected to believe movie two of this random franchise is necessary. Okayyy.

The weird thing is, Adam Sander’s not your typical unnecessary sequel-maker (this is actually his first), so the choice to second “Grown Ups,” of all things, is perplexing indeed. Sure, it’s been his biggest box office win since the ’90s (and, uh, it is not “Jack & Jill”), but even so, there were several other titles on his filmography that might’ve actually deserved a second installment… like, say, these ones:

Sure, all was well that ended well when Forgetful Lucy (Drew Barrymore) woke up in watery captivity on a yacht to a little home movie explaining away her new, surprise life, but what’s gonna happen when she’s actually fifty, going on her first date with a geezer version of Henry, having some random rugrat callin’ her grandma and whatnot while she’s still got the mindspace of a twenty-something Hawaiian painter? Nothing good, that’s what. Now, there’s your movie. So twisted it would make “Amour” look like “Say Anything…”

By our calculations, hotshot Paul Crewe has still gotta few years left on that prison sentence (some joy ride), so that football show-down with the guards is surely just part one of this little yard rivalry, right? And seeing as someone actually got blown up in prep for game one of the series, the stakes are bound to be even higher, especially since all Crewe’s tricksy NFL-ish plays have now been exposed. It’s hard to believe the team’d be able to squeak out a second victory — at least not without a few shanks being snuck into the pen.

So Granny got her house back, big whoop. There’s still the matter of a career in question here, yeah? For crying out loud, the kid’d already been through about twelve thousand public nervous breakdowns at the age of, what, thirty? There’s much, much more to explore here beyond him throwing a few golf clubs around. He’s a national name, after all, and these days America loves nothing more than a classic celeb meltdown. Imagine if they TMZ-styled a sequel to this, finding Happy all Edward Furlong-ed out on Skid Row, meanwhile poor Gran’s had to put the house up again to make a fifth round of bail for the sure-to-be wash-out. And then, of course, would come along some kinda sporty comeback ’cause Hollywood.

The logical next step in the educational pursuits of the not-so-young Billy Madison would have to be college, no? He did give up the company, after all, and given his spending track record, he’s sure to blow through whatever parcel he got from the transfer in no time. And, of course, his little lady friend’s been operating on a humble teacher’s salary, so it sounds like a life of meal plans and enticing co-eds and adderall binges is just a green light away. Hey, and we definitely know he’d throw one heckuva tailgate.

He’d just gotten one kid to wipe his own you-know-what, and then the closing sequence finds him with a babe in arms. Yikes! Being a real baby daddy should be quite the experience for Sonny Koufax, and we’d especially enjoy watching him finagle diapers and nappies with a desk full of depositions and various pleading files scattered about. Also, what the heck happened to the other kid? Did Kevin Gerrity (Jon Stewart) rise to the occasion and keep that magic alive with Dr. Big T*ts McGee (Leslie Mann) all the same? We’d be curious enough to tune in and see what became of that clustermuck of individuals, especially Scuba Steve.

M-m-m-mama (Kathy Bates) might’ve let The Debbil have his due when it came to foosball and checkin’ out Vicki Vallencourt’s “boobies,” but as many fellow southern daughters-in-law well know, this is not the end of that boy’s mommy issues. A woman who’s willing to out-right fake a coma isn’t above much in the way of sonly manipulation, and it’d be real interesting to see what stops she’d pull when it came to naming the grands and Thanksgiving dinners and other typically controversial familial affairs. Basically, it’d be the redneck version of “Monster-In-Law.”

So, Dave (Steve Buscemi) is the new wedding singer, but what now for our boy Robbie? Did Billy Idol hook him up with a sweet touring gig based solely on his little folk number on the plane? Chances are … no. Robbie’s probably still out working the small-time entertainment circuit, sporting his dirty band tees and flirting with elderly women while Julia inevitably begins to lambast the life that could’ve been if she’d just turned a blind eye to all her former fiance’s wanderings. And soon enough, Robbie’d be belting out his pitchy version of “Love Hurts” in divorce court with his frizzy mullet and tired electric blue blazer.